Never Too Late for Heroes Read online

  Table Of Contents

  Other Books by A.L. Brooks

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  About A.L. Brooks

  Other Books from Ylva Publishing

  Sign up for our newsletter to hear

  about new and upcoming releases.

  www.ylva-publishing.com

  Other Books by A.L. Brooks

  The Long Shot

  Write Your Own Script

  One Way or Another

  Up on the Roof

  Miles Apart

  Dark Horse

  The Club

  Other Books in

  The Superheroines Collection

  Shattered by Lee Winter

  The Power of Mercy (Novel) by Fiona Zedde

  The Power of Mercy (Graphic Novel) by Fiona Zedde

  Chasing Starts by Alex K. Thorne

  Shadow Hand by Sacchi Green

  A Lover’s Mercy by Fiona Zedde

  Never Too Late for Heroes

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to Ylva for giving this one a shot—it was such fun to write, and I’m so excited it’s now in print.

  Huge thanks to everyone who read this and encouraged me to submit it for publication: Tanja, Katja, Andrea, Tracey, and Erin.

  My beta readers were awesome, sending the story in a totally different direction than I planned but absolutely right to suggest it. Thank you! And a special thanks to Amy for checking my Americanisms. Any mistakes left in that regard are purely my own fault.

  My editor, Zee, was a joy to work with, and I love how much we laughed our way through the process. Thanks to Amanda for the copy edit and to Amber for the proof read.

  Dedication

  To Ras, Tracey, James, and Ceri – this book is all about teams, and I couldn’t have worked with a better one.

  Chapter 1

  Reed slammed her palm against the closet door. “Goddammit!” Why on Earth had she thought she could reach the top shelf without some help?

  She groaned as she stepped back and rubbed her now-sore palm on her leg.

  Stupid knees. I hate getting old.

  A long sigh escaped her lips; she tilted her head back and gazed at the yellowed ceiling above her.

  Come on, suck it up and stop being such a wimp.

  She turned and walked out of the bedroom to the end of the short hallway. In the narrow store cupboard, she located what she needed and hauled it out. The ladder only had two steps, but with her knees as shot to hell as they were these days, those two steps made all the difference. She carried the ladder back into the bedroom and set it up in front of the open closet doors. Two deep breaths and she was ready to go. The first step up was the easiest, as always, but the second had her wincing in pain.

  Stupid knees.

  All this for a jacket. If only Mary didn’t insist on them all dressing up fancy on this day each year. Still, Reed noted, none of them had ever defied her. No one wanted to be the one who kicked the puppy. Hence why she was easing her poor knees up a damn stepladder to reach the jacket that only saw the light of day this one day each year. Come on, get this done and then you can get back to the documentary on the history of Triumph Motorcycles.

  “Where are you, you little shit?”

  She felt all around the stuff piled high on the top shelf of the closet. How had it gotten so far back?

  Her touch fell on a hint of velvet fabric, and she smiled in triumph. Okay, nearly there. But even with the steps beneath her she couldn’t…quite…reach.

  She huffed out a frustrated breath. Stupid jacket.

  Okay, one more try and if I can’t get it, to hell with Mary. She snorted. Who was she kidding; she knew she’d keep trying.

  As she braced with one hand against the step ladder, she reached up again to the shelf.

  The tingle started in her shoulder blades. Her eyes widened, her body froze, and she nearly fell off the ladder.

  “No,” she whispered. “How?”

  Not daring to believe, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling. It was as if someone were running a low-charge static wand between her shoulder blades.

  Just like…

  She breathed deeply in and out. Then she focused on the tingles and reached up one more time. If it really was back, then all she’d have to do was push just a little harder and farther and—

  The tingles vanished.

  “No!” Reed groaned in frustration. She leaned her forehead against the shelf edge and rubbed her arm.

  What the hell just happened?

  Later that Friday evening, Reed strolled up to Sunny’s front door and knocked loudly.

  “Sunny, open up, it’s me!” Reed knocked again. She knew her cousin was inside; she heard a chair scrape on the floor, then the clink of a glass. What she couldn’t understand was why the infuriating woman wasn’t opening her door.

  “Gimme a minute!”

  Reed folded her arms and tutted. She tapped one finger against her arm and waited with as much patience as she could muster.

  Finally, the door swung open and Sunny’s scowling face greeted her. The oldest of their group at sixty-eight, her face was the most wrinkled of them all, with deep crevices etched into her cheeks and forehead. She wore a hideous arrangement of a polka dot pink sweater jacket over mustard-yellow pants.

  Reed wondered if it was too late to retrieve her sunglasses from her room.

  “I’m nearly ready.” Sunny stepped to one side to allow Reed inside.

  Reed entered, and the odor hit her a second later. Something had burned—and recently if she had to guess. “What’s that smell?”

  Sunny wouldn’t meet her eye, fussing with her purse at the table. “Nothing.”

  “But it smells like something caught fire in here.”

  “Must have come from outside.” Sunny gestured to the open window. “Someone smoking, I reckon.”

  She’d always been a terrible liar. That smell was not from cigarette smoke, of that Reed was sure. And why was Sunny acting so weird about it?

  “I just need to finish my make-up,” Sunny said. “Sit down if you want.”

  Rolling her eyes at her cousin’s usual gruff tone, Reed inclined her head but didn’t sit. Instead, she waited until Sunny had left the room before beginning her quest to hunt down the source of the stench. There was
nothing obvious in the living room, so she moved to the bedroom, making as little noise as she could. The smell was stronger here. It took her a moment, but then it hit her: there was a lamp on each side of the bed, but only one had a shade. And behind the bare lamp, a large smear of smoke damage coated the wall.

  What the hell?

  She walked to the bathroom and nearly ran into Sunny as she swept out of the small room.

  “What happened in there?” Reed pointed to the bedroom.

  For an instant, Sunny looked scared. Then her face slackened, and she shrugged. “Nothing. Bulb blew and a spark caught the shade.” She pushed past Reed. “Ready to go?”

  Reed followed her, a dozen questions on her lips.

  When Sunny turned to face her, the stubborn set of her cousin’s mouth told Reed she’d be wasting her breath. She exhaled slowly. Another time. Or maybe she’d ask Mary—Sunny seemed to confide in her more.

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  “Well, here we are.” Reed raised her glass. “Here’s to six years at Hazy Days, the finest retirement home Missouri has to offer.”

  Her three cousins raised their glasses in tandem, then tapped them together.

  Reed sat back in her chair and sighed. “Six fucking years. It feels like sixty. Anyone else as bored out of their minds as I am?” Reed cast her glance around at the three of them.

  Mary shook her head, a sheepish smile on her face.

  “I’d be happy to lend you one of my books,” Val said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “I just finished reading Desert Island Passion and it’s—”

  Sunny snorted. “Reed doesn’t have a romantic bone in her body.” Her oversized glasses, as usual, had slipped down to the end of her nose. She pursed her lips. “But yeah, I’m bored too. If I have to listen to Doris Sanders sing ‘Some Enchanted Evening’ on Talent Night one more time, I’m either gonna kill myself or her.”

  Everyone laughed, even Mary. Doris Sanders, a long-time resident who considered herself the matriarch of the home, had once been in an amateur theater production way back in the fifties. That single performance had left her with the misguided perception that she could—and should—sing in public. The stray cat that had taken up residence in the grounds of the home could be seen running for cover every time Doris let loose her voice.

  Reed smirked at Sunny, unable to resist yanking her cousin’s chain. “Her singing’s better than your piano playing.”

  Sunny threw Reed an affronted glare.

  Val shook her head. She’d been quiet for a couple of weeks now—that is, more quiet than usual. Kinda worried looking, too. Reed had kept meaning to ask her if there was anything wrong, but there never seemed a good time. Now certainly wasn’t it, not with the others around. Val was almost the same age as Sunny but looked a lot younger. She’d always carried her years well, although Reed knew her hip was really getting her down these days.

  “Don’t start, you two.” Val narrowed her eyes at Reed and Sunny. “Let’s not have anything ruin the evening. You know Mary’s been looking forward to it all week.”

  Mary was always the nicest one, the carer of the group, always looking out for her cousins and doing anything she could for any of them. Tonight, their anniversary dinner, she was all dressed up in her best Sunday dress, the deep blue one with the white cat embroidered over her left breast. She’d always had that little bit extra class, and Reed couldn’t help smiling at her.

  “That reminds me!” Mary threw up her hands. “I bought all y’all a little gift to mark the occasion.” She delved into her purse and produced three small packages. Each was a blue fabric bag, tied at the neck with bright yellow ribbon.

  “Aw, you shouldn’t have.” Val smiled widely at Mary. “But thank you!”

  They opened their bags and oohed and aahed over the contents. They’d each received a small enamel brooch with a different woodland scene embossed on the surface.

  “Thanks.” Reed patted Mary’s hand. “You know, you seem to be the only one of us who’s ever truly settled here.”

  Mary’s cheeks pinked a little. “Well, maybe. I guess I was always the one who hated all the traveling around. I wanted to settle down.” She shrugged and gestured to the rest of the room around them. “And I know it isn’t quite what y’all had in mind, but I can think of worse places to see out our days, that’s for sure.”

  Reed looked beyond Mary’s outstretched arm to take in the large dining room of Hazy Days, the residential home where they’d all lived for the past six years. It was plainly furnished but had bright pictures of all kinds of flowers on the walls. The big windows looked out onto well-tended grounds, where birds flitted between the trees and bushes and some folks were already out taking their post-dinner walk. The home was large, airy, and open in general, the rooms well appointed, and Reed realized she had to agree with Mary’s assessment. Yep, it wasn’t that bad.

  “I know,” she said quietly. “I guess it’s just… It’s not quite where I thought we’d end up. Not after everything we did for all those years.”

  “Beats that motel in Lubbock we had to hole up in, back in seventy-five,” Sunny said with a wry smile.

  Mary leaned in. “Oh my, yes!” Her shoulders shook with mirth. “The guy that owned that place? I wish we’d have had time to figure out his game and teach him a few lessons.”

  “Hell yes.” Val kept her voice low but nodded vigorously. “There was something very wrong with that man.”

  “You ever wish we could go back to some of those places? Tidy up what we had to leave behind?” Reed asked, also leaning in close. This was not a conversation the other residents of Hazy Days needed to hear.

  “Always,” Sunny muttered grimly. “I know we did a lot, but…”

  “Yeah. But.”

  Almost as one, they all reached for their drinks once more and downed the remains of their sodas and juices.

  “Anyone interested in a real drink?” Sunny set her glass down with a loud thud. “Somewhere a little more private where we can reminisce some more?”

  “You’re on.” Reed stood as quick as her damn knees would allow. She waited while her cousins all took the time necessary to heave their old and broken bodies upright, then motioned for Sunny to lead the way.

  “Y’all go on first,” Sunny said. “I need to stop by the concession stand for some snacks. I’ll catch you up.” She fished in the pocket of her revolting sweater and handed a key to Reed. “Let yourselves in and get the drinks started. Mine’s a bourbon, two fingers. Hell, make it three.”

  Chapter 2

  There was something very odd about Miss Sunny Power, Dana Chapman had decided.

  Dana was a nice girl. She’d been brought up right by her parents, and she didn’t go around thinking folks were odd just to be spiteful. But there was something very strange about the resident of room 221 that Dana could no longer ignore. Sure, Dana had only worked at the Hazy Days Residential Care Home for a little over two months now, and maybe that was a short amount of time to really lay a judgment on someone. Especially someone as old as Miss Sunny, who normally would command Dana’s utmost respect.

  But Miss Sunny was…odd. There were no two ways about it.

  From her position half hidden behind the cart loaded with clean linens, Dana nibbled an already short fingernail as she watched Miss Sunny feel her way toward her room with one free hand, the other tightly clutching three large bags of chips. The skin of her pale fingers looked ghostly white against the beige walls of the hallway that led to the four rooms on this floor. The big glasses perched on her nose were apparently no help to her for finding her way. Dana wasn’t really sure why Miss Sunny used them; she was obviously as blind as a bat, forever bumping into furniture and walls.

  She wore, unsurprisingly, an outfit that made Dana’s eyes hurt. Most days Miss Sunny looked like a four-year-old had dressed her, and today was no excep
tion. Although, the bright pink of the polka dot sweater did contrast nicely with her dark, shoulder-length hair. It was surprisingly lustrous for a woman of her advanced years, a thought Dana had kept to herself whenever she’d combed Miss Sunny’s hair for her. She seemed to like it, humming quietly to herself while Dana worked, and Dana herself had found it strangely soothing. It wasn’t in her contract, not written anywhere on her duty sheet, but it was something she’d offered, late one day toward the end of her shift, and Miss Sunny had accepted, and now it was something Dana tried to do for her whenever she could.

  It was while brushing out Miss Sunny’s hair last Wednesday morning that Dana had spotted the mark on the wall of the living room, right up high where it met the ceiling, near the window. About the size of a baseball, it was black, and round, but had jagged edges. Almost like something had burnt the wall, but just in that one spot.

  “Miss Sunny, what’s that?” She’d pointed at the mark with the brush.

  Miss Sunny’s eyes narrowed, becoming hard and cold, as if infuriated that Dana had asked the question. Then she smiled, and nodded, and turned back into her harmless little-old-lady self. “Nothin’ for you to worry about, Dana. Nothin’ at all.”

  And Miss Sunny had reached out a hand to the brush and guided it back to her head, and Dana, after a slight pause, had continued the task and tried very hard to put that fearsome expression out of her mind.

  Miss Sunny had now reached the door to her room and pushed it open.

  Dana relaxed, glad that Miss Sunny had made it back without toppling over or crashing into anything. Then she stiffened as Miss Sunny snapped her head around and stared directly at Dana, as if she could actually see her, which Dana knew was surely impossible.

  A slow grin formed on Miss Sunny’s face, and she tilted her head for a moment before she turned back to the door, pushed it open, and stepped into her room. The door shut with a loud thud that matched the timbre of Dana’s heart thumping behind her ribs.

  “Gin!” Mary slapped her cards down on the table.

  Val gasped then slumped back in her chair. “Goddammit, how do you keep doing that?”